50 Words 50 Stories - Katniss and Peeta
by sunshineandsunflowers
Summary: This multi-shot's story is based after the work of lehulei's, "50 Words - Katniss and Peeta". She wrote 50 sentences for 50 random words. Each sentence inspired me to write these One-Shots based after them. I will be writing short stories (Therefore, One-Shots) based and inspired after them. FULL credit for the sentence/word goes to lehulei. (All One-Shots are Post-Mockingjay)
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

This multi-shot's story is based after the work of lehulei's, "50 Words - Katniss and Peeta" and link can be found on my profile. She wrote 50 sentences for 50 random words. Each sentence inspired me to write these One-Shots based after them. With her permission, I will be writing short stories (Therefore, One-Shots) based and inspired after them. FULL credit for the sentence/word goes to lehulei.

Each One-Shot will be different, _all _will be Post-Mockingjay however. Some will be funny, why others are more serious. Some will be _longer _then others, and some will be shorter. The one following this introduction, "Shore" is a short One-Shot. I'm planning (and hoping) on making most of them longer in length, but sadly some will be short(er). I rated the story "T" for mostly "Just in case", there _might_ be stories of more adult talk/content.

I will be mixing up the words, not going in order from the way lehulei wrote them. I will try to upload one every week but time may get in the way. You can check both my (fan) Facebook page and Tumblr for updates and any special previews. Both links can be found on my profile page.

This is also my first time in writing fan fiction in the third person, I normally do my stories in first person. Most, and so far all the stories _will _be wrote in the third person unless noted otherwise. So, with all that said, enjoy the stories! - Macayla S. (sunshineandsunflowers)

Author- Macayla S. (sunshineandsunflowers)

Storyline by- lehulei ( archiveofourownDOorg)


	2. Shore

_Shore_

_"It was on the shore of that arena that she first felt it."_

* * *

Katniss was bent over the stove, carefully and slowly pushing the stew around with the large cooking spoon, just as Peeta insisted. She was no where near a cook, everyone (including Peeta most of all) knew this. Her last cooking attempt ended in a charred stove. Peeta had to order a new one from the Capitol (giving him a great excuse). Ever since, Peeta does the cooking.

"Peeta, is it supposed to boil?" Katniss asked.

"Yes Hon." He replied, silently giggling to himself at Katniss' lack of culinary skills.

Peeta watched her from behind, looking up from the vegetables he was cutting, silently laughing to himself at the careful feet or two of distance she has between herself and the stove.

"It won't hurt you babe." He joked, a grin spreading across his now older looking face.

It had been ten years since the war, Katniss and Peeta were no where near _who _they used to be. Marriage had changed them… in the best way possible. Their little girl had changed them, again, in the best way possible.

"I know, but it's hot!" Katniss replied defensively. Peeta couldn't see her face, but he knew she wore a small grin or smile on it.

"That's coming from the Girl On Fire?" Peeta replied teasingly, instantly regretting his words.

Katniss stops stirring the stew, whipping halfway around to meet Peeta's gaze. They could both talk about the war, about the loved ones they lost, the life and lives left behind, their rolls that changed Panem forever when it was appropriate, but random talks or mentions could easily send them both into their darkest of places they still fight off, Katniss most of all.

"I'm sorry." Peeta whispers to her, realizing the hurt in her eyes.

He could usually tell when Katniss was about to have a break down, he can see it in her eyes, much like now. He runs over to her, stepping around the small island in the middle of the kitchen. He wraps one arm over her waist, dropping his face just inches from hers.

"I'm sorry." He repeats, bringing his lips to hers in an apologetic form.

For a second she doesn't move her lips, she stands there. But after a moment Peeta feels her lips move in unison with his. The feeling that still stirs Peeta with the sweetest delight. The feeling of her lips pressed against his own. It has the same effect on Katniss, not at first. It took her time after the war, small kisses after a nightmare, another one in the morning before he would leave for the newly built Bakery.

Finally, Katniss realized the sensation had returned, the feeling of _desire _she so unwillingly accepted. The feeling that drove Katniss to want another kiss, followed by another. The feeling of want. Much like right now. It's Katniss who parts them of their kiss. She opens her eyes, staring into the face of her husband.

"It's okay." She responds, quietly. Peeta almost doesn't catch her words as they leave her lips. The lips he loves so much.

Peeta smiles in answer, staring back into her beautiful grey seam eyes, the seam that no longer remains. Katniss watches as he drops their gaze, taking the spoon from Katniss' hand, laying it gently on the counter, taking the pots lid and recovering the dish.

"It just needs a few more minutes." Peeta says, turning down the heat on the stove for simmer.

"Good, I'm starving." Katniss replies, smiling as Peeta wraps his other arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Me too." He says, with just a hint of seductiveness. "So what shall we do in our free time, Mrs. Mellark?" He asks, bringing his lips to her neck.

Just then, as though right on quoi the sound of their joyfully screaming daughter fills the house from the living room.

"I think Haymitch can keep her entertained a little while longer." Katniss replies, mentioning the old mentor, now friend playing with their daughter in the other room.

"Mommy!? Daddy!? Come look!" Their toddler exclaims, calling for them.

"Maybe not." Peeta replies, lifting his lips from her neck, sending another apologetic smile at her. They laugh in unison.

Katniss grips Peeta's hand as she follows him into the living room where their daughter plays happily. Just then, at the feeling of Peeta's hand intertwined in her own she realizes,

It was on the shore of that arena that she first felt it.


	3. Rye Bread

_Rye Bread_

_"Even though it had no sugar and nothing particularly special about it, his daughter thought rye bread was the yummiest"_

* * *

"Is Daddy baking? Is he? Is he?" Their little girl, Iris asked on their walk from the school to home.

Iris asked this question everyday to her mother, if her father was baking some treat or sweet back home, being the high light of her day after six hours of school. Katniss rubbed her protruding belly, feeling the baby inside kick at the unwelcomed walk.

"I'm sure he is, baby." She replied, hiding the gasp in as her son took a kick to his mothers ribs.

"What's he making? What's he making?!" Her daughter asked, filled with excitement at every store they passed in town.

"I don't know pumpkin, I'm sure a cake of some sort." Katniss answered, knowing that if Peeta didn't have bread in the oven, it was most likely a cake.

"Aw." Iris sighed with disappointment. Stopping in the middle of the town street.

Katniss stopped, turned around and looked into the face of her sadden five year old little girl.

"What is it baby?" She asked. Nothing made her more of a mother then when her daughter was sadden or hurt. Nothing hurt her own heart more.

Iris didn't answer. Instead, she stared into the face of her mother. In Iris's eyes, her mother was a strong, brave woman, but always seemed to need Daddy at certain times, especially when she was upset. She didn't quite understand why people would stop them in town, saying thank you for what she did. Iris didn't ask. She didn't understand. There was one time, when a certain lady, Effie Trinket came to visit. Mentioning that she was a 'mini' Mockinjay. Iris looked on as she watched her mother nearly knock the front teeth out of 'Aunt Effie'. Thank God Daddy was there she thought.

Iris looks on now, at her mother as her eyes become wider with anticipation at her daughters answer. She watches as her daughter studies her, looking into her grey seam eyes. Katniss begins to be overwhelmed with worry at the absent of her daughters answer.

"Iris honey, what's wrong?" Katniss asks, an edge of panic beginning to form.

"I want Daddy to bake rye bread!" She says giddily, losing her sadness.

Katniss closed her eyes, sighing a breath of relief. Panic after what her and Peeta had been through comes far too easily for the both of them. She was relived when she found out her daughter was only sadden at the thought of her father not baking her favorite thing for her back home.

They continued to walk as Katniss listened to her daughter repeat _everything _she did in school. She definitely got her words and voice from her father, Katniss thought to herself. Laughing as her daughter was so specific to include her bathroom trips.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Iris shouted, throwing the front door open and making a bee line for the kitchen.

Iris never had to search the house for her father, he was always in the kitchen. If not, in his painting room.

"How's my little princess doing?" Peeta asked, setting down the cook book he was bent over reading and picking up his little girl. Swinging her around.

Katniss took a seat at the dinning room table off to the side, sighing as the baby continued to kick.

"Oh Daddy it was just wonderful!" She exclaims. Peeta (and Katniss) laugh at the sight of their baby girl, talking happily about her second week of school. "Daddy!?" She shouts, even though she has her hands tightly wrapped around her fathers neck.

"What sweetheart?" Peeta replies, setting the girl more on his hip.

"Rye bread? Please, tell me it's rye bread!?" Iris exclaimed, praying her father would reply with a yes.

Peeta couldn't understand it, two things actually. How a little girl could be so much like her mother, especially when it came to food. No, rye bread isn't Katniss' favorite (it's no ones but their daughter) but when they both want something particular, they both make it known. And how she could be so in love with a food such as rye bread.

"Oh baby, I'm sorry. I just put a cake in the oven." Peeta replies, sadden at the thought of his daughter not getting what she wanted. Katniss smiles from her seat, being right about her husbands baking.

He sets her down gently, pushing her two dark braids behind her back. Iris knew that sulking could get her anything from her father (not her mother as much), but she didn't want to sulk. Instead she looked into the eyes of her father, blinking a few times before speaking.

"It's okay, Daddy." She says disappointingly, tarrying into Peeta's heart at the sight of his sadden daughter.

"Hey…" Peeta bends down, getting leveled with his beautiful daughter. "How about we make rye bread _too_?" He asks her, knowing she'll say yes.

"Oh Daddy lets!" Iris replies, jumping up and down and clapping her hands together.

Katniss laughs from her seat at the table, realizing their daughter has a very… sophisticated vocabulary at times for her age. Haymitch was right.

Katniss watches on as the kitchen goes from unstraightened to completely messy as Peeta and his daughter take out all the ingredients, slinging flour onto the floor in the process. Katniss and Peeta never understood why their daughter liked this bland, dry bread, but they didn't care. Katniss always thought Peeta gave into their daughter to much, giving her what she wanted when she wanted.

"I'm just giving her what we never had."

Peeta would reply to her comments. Katniss, for the first few years of Iris' life never understood what Peeta truly meant by that comment. Now, as she watches her little girl sling the ingredients into the correct bowls, laughing as Peeta blows flour on to her, she understands.

After several minutes of mixing the correct ingredients and setting the second oven to the correct temperature, it's finally in the oven to cook. Iris stands in front of the oven door, pleading for her father to leave the 'Oven Light' on. Peeta clicks it, lighting the stove inside with light a little light bulb in the back corner of the ovan. Iris sits in front of it, asking for her fathers help with the little chicken shaped timer. Peeta sets it, laughing to himself at his excited daughter as he hands it back to her. She sets it in front of her, eyeing the inside of the stove intensely.

"She couldn't be more like you." Katniss says to her husband as he slides into the seat next to his wife.

"No, she couldn't be more like _you_." Peeta replies, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"She's the perfect blend of both of us." She adds, kissing the lips gently of her husband.

"Is it done yet Daddy!?" Iris asks, looking back to see her parents sharing a kiss. They do that a lot, she thought to herself.

Peeta pulled his lips away from his wife, both laughing in unison at their daughters question.

"Not yet baby, it takes some time." He replies, squeezing Katniss closer to him.

"She really likes that stuff doesn't she?" Katniss asks, giggling at the sight of their daughter pressing her nose against the oven glass.

"No more then you and those cheese buns!" He responds, kissing the forehead of his loving wife.

Peeta looks back to his daughter, whose now hands are pressed against the glass as well.

Even though it had no sugar and nothing particularly special about it, his daughter thought rye bread was the yummiest.


	4. Electric

_Electric_

_"When she was feeling aroused, the look she'd throw at him was electric."_

* * *

Katniss woke to the early morning sunlight shining in through the opened windows and the soft feel of Peeta's fingers making soothing circles on her arm. It was mornings like these that Katniss treasured, her children sleeping soundly and the brief quiet moments she shares in the early mornings with her husband. But it was _especially _mornings like this one, a Saturday where no plans are made, nothing but family on the schedule that Katniss enjoyed the most.

Katniss sighed at the feeling of Peeta slowly trailing his fingers down her exposed arm. She had her back turned toward her husband but in these brief motions Katniss knew what her husband meant by these simple touches. Peeta use to confuse Katniss in asking for these 'early morning pleasures', but now, she knows. On some mornings (and nights) Peeta's bold about what they know they both want, and other times he's slow, almost scared to ask or mention it though he's not.

She begins to feel her mouth form a grin as Peeta slowly trails his hand down the remainder of her arm, over her hip and starting on her leg.

"Peeta?" Katniss speaks, getting the attention of her aroused husband.

"Hmm?" He replies, barely catching the words of his wife.

There were also morning like these for Peeta, the sight of his beautiful, loving, wife sleeping could instantly turn him on. It was one of these mornings for Peeta Mellark, but they didn't come easy, not with two kids.

Katniss didn't answer to her husbands response but instead sat up, turning around to meet the face of the man she's came to love, the man she couldn't live without. Peeta was probed up on one elbow, searching his eyes she could see lust, want. It use to scare her, the idea of turning not just any man, but Peeta on. Knowing it was her, her being, her body that could instantly cause a bulge in his pants. Now though, it did nothing but turn _her _on. Much like now.

Katniss shot her husband a grin before leaning down, planting a hard kiss against his waiting lips. Then another. Then another. Before she was aware of it, she was lying flat on top of her husband, allowing his hands to roam over her back, her own hands tugging at his blond curls she loved so much, the matching curls of her son. Katniss could feel his harden member pressed against her-

"Good morni-"

The bedroom door suddenly swung open to their eight year old daughter, greeting them.

"Really? Not again!" She says, quickly leaving and shutting the door tightly behind her.

It wasn't Iris Mellark's first time seeing her parents aroused with each other, it happened often. Too often, she thought.

Katniss shifted her gaze from the door to back to her laughing husband. Getting walked in on was nothing new to the Mellarks, not with an eight year old and a three year old in the same living quarters. Of course, it bothered Katniss more then Peeta.

"We really should teach our children to knock." Peeta says, gently stroking his wives back as his gaze remands on the door. She sits up, resting her hands on her husbands chest.

"Maybe we should _lock _the door?" Katniss responds, a wide grin plastered across her face. "That'd solve the whole problem." She jokes. Their laughs join together in perfect harmony.

"Mama? Dada?"

The door yet again swings open, this time slower as their three year old bundle of energy comes charging in the room, throwing himself onto their bed. He misses the fact that his mother is sitting on top of his father.

"Hungry… breakfast!" He speaks in his toddler, chubby voice.

"Five more minutes?" Peeta asks, wanting nothing more then more time with his wife.

"No!" Lorne screams in response, sticking his bottom lip out in preparation of a crying fit.

"Alright, alright." His father replies, removing his hands from his wife and stroking the small beard forming on his chin.

Lorne jumps up and down in response, causing the whole bed to sway. Lorne was just simply… _all _boy, Driving his parents nuts at time. Chasing him just to put socks and shoes on was a daily routine in the Mellark household. Peeta seemed to turn the daily chases into a game. For Katniss though, she became easily angered, resulting in Lorne (and Iris) having a frustrated mother for a while. Since then, Peeta does most of the child wrangling.

Katniss sends her husband an apologetic smile before removing herself from his lap. He gets up quickly, pulling on a shirt before leaving the room, the sound of him and Iris in the kitchen soon follow. Lorne stops jumping, sitting on his feet and looking at his mother. In Lorne's three year old eyes, his mother was a shy (at times), brave person, but very weak at times, _always _needing Daddy. His mother cried a lot, he thought. But Lorne loved his mother, her arms were his favorite place to be.

"Mama!? Mama!? Mama!?" Lorne squeals in a sing-song voice, resuming his jumping.

Their were times when Katniss really wished Lorne was a girl… like times as these. Katniss lunged herself at her son, being prepared for him to sprint at the thought of his mother ceasing his fun. She was fast, but not fast enough. Lorne threw himself off of the bed at the sight of his mother coming towards him.

Katniss sighed heavily at the sight of her three year old making a getaway, his chubby legs running out of the room. She could hear his heavy footfall on the stairs. Lorne was prepared for his mother to run after him. Katniss didn't follow though, she instead found herself lying flat on her stomach from her failed attempt, laughing weakly at her sons antics.

After another small round of laughter Katniss found herself using her hunters feet, searching the bottom floor for her hiding, waiting son. Her and Peeta knew the routine far to well, he'd be hiding if she was right. She walked into the kitchen where her husband and daughter were bent over the stove, no doubt making pancakes.

"Peeta, have you seen Lorne?" Katniss asked her husband, playfully.

Peeta didn't have to answer, the sound of a giggling toddler soon filed the kitchen. Under the sink, she thought to herself. She walked past her husband, slightly gripping his butt in the process, and over to the sink, slinging the doors open to find-

Nothing.

She was wrong about her sons hiding spot. Just as she was about to stand, she felt a sudden 'bang' against her backside and tiny arms wrapped around her waist. She craned her neck to see her son, giggling away as he buried his head into his mothers shirt. Katniss took advantage of this sweet moment, snatching him up into her arms, the arms Lorne loved so much, despite the energy tingling in his toes.

"Now your mine!" His mother exclaimed, lowering him into his highchair at the table.

The table was soon filled with the Mellarks, all munching on their breakfast. It was quiet, the sound of their son crunching down on his oats and the sound of their daughter, humming ever so softly as she ate. Not all mornings were quiet, but it was this time.

She sat across from her husband, eyeing him as he leaned his head on his hand, shifting the food on his plate. There were times Peeta would get like this, not down, just simply tired from the weeks task of running a now, very popular bakery and raising a family. He wouldn't go back though, not for anything in the world.

Katniss hated to see him like this, especially _this _morning. The morning she was so close to turning around her husbands tired morning, turning her own morning into something special. Katniss slowly chews her food at the thought of what could have happened this morning, the feeling of her husbands turn on press against her, she shifts in the chair, feeling slightly uncomfortable at having this thought with her children present. She rubs the back of her neck, trying to forget it. Tonight, she thought to herself, tonight. But tonight seemed a world wind away for her. She looked at her husband just in time for their eyes to meet, she wasn't the only one with it on her mind.

She smirked, throwing him a look filled with electricity to his soul.


End file.
